Page 52

Sam

A s soon as I walked onto the mound, I searched the stands for Kelsey.

When our eyes met, I smiled and winked, and she helped Crew clap for me.

I wasn’t a stranger to hostile fans, but having someone here only for me?

That was new. Family. The word ran repeatedly in my brain, and I couldn’t get over the sense of home those two provided.

I loved playing baseball, but tonight, I just wanted to make quick work of my opponents and get back to Kelsey.

She even made the dinner with my father seem less dreadful, and I kept reminding myself that we had a sitter for the entire night.

And just like that, there was a “we” and this baby in the picture, and I couldn’t imagine life without them.

I pitched well, fuck, I pitched amazing.

Since Kelsey had been in my life and at my games, I had several games that would typically be considered career highlights.

I felt almost invincible on the mound, but strangely enough, it had become one of the least important parts of my life.

My career had suddenly paled compared to my relationship with Kelsey and Crew.

Baseball had now just become how I funded my lifestyle, which increasingly embarrassed me when I realized how modestly Kelsey lived and how she was raised.

My parents had always had more than enough, and I’d never struggled for money.

When she greeted me after the game, I hugged her and Crew and swiped him from her arms. We both looked up as a camera flashed in our faces.

“Sam, we must have missed the birth announcement. When was the baby born?”

I wasn’t in the practice of lying to the media, but I figured this part of Kelsey and Crew’s history was none of anyone’s business.

“That’s because there was no announcement,” I answered and walked away, shutting down further questions.

Kelsey squeezed my hand, silently communicating her appreciation as we headed out of the stadium together. Her father followed closely behind, trying not to appear starstruck by the rest of my teammates.

When we got back to the hotel, we got her father settled with Crew, and then Kelsey locked herself in the second bedroom in our suite to get ready.

She had promised a surprise, and I hoped it had something to do with the charge on my credit card statement for Agent Provocateur.

The total was staggeringly high and completely unexpected from Kelsey. I fucking loved seeing the charge.

I had showered after the game but left this morning’s stubble instead of shaving close. I dressed in Tom Ford slim-fit pants and a polo-style shirt and hoped Kelsey would pick the black Stella McCartney dress.

“Fuck me,” I rasped out when she finally met me in the living room of the suite.

“You like?” she asked hesitantly .

“I love, come here,” I beckoned her. She approached slowly until she stood inches away, her head cranked back as she struggled to maintain eye contact.

“You’re going to fuck up my lipstick, aren’t you?”

I kissed her forehead, sighed, and shook my head. “I can wait until later because I’m only going to be satisfied seeing your lips wrapped around my cock. We don’t have the time for that now.”

Kelsey bit her lower lip, placed a hand on my chest to steady herself, and squeezed her thighs together. “You should see the surprise I have under this dress.”

I debated saying I had noticed the charge but instead ushered her out the door and said, “I can’t wait.”

Kelsey had been so uncomfortable using the credit card I didn’t plan to do anything to make her question what she’d done. I’d take her surprising me with lingerie any night of the week. It might be the best incentive to get through a night with my dad.

Dad and Gramps were already seated when we arrived.

My gaze flickered from the glass of amber-colored liquor in front of my father and then to Gramps.

He gave an almost imperceptible shake of the head and a prolonged intake of breath.

His reaction only confirmed that the glassy-eyed look from my father meant that he was already drunk.

“Dad, Gramps, this is Kelsey.”

My father reached for her first, pulling her into a hug and squeezing her a little too hard before he planted a sloppy, wet kiss on her cheek. I cringed inwardly, knowing that the display was causing Kelsey discomfort, and I was completely unable to do anything to help her.

Gramps took her hand and placed a lighter, more appropriate kiss on her other cheek, avoiding the wet spot Dad had left behind.

When she sat, I waited for my father to be distracted by the waitress before wiping her cheek with a napkin.

I was relieved only for a moment that he’d been distracted until he commented, “Damn, what I’d do to make that woman scream my name. ”

Kelsey’s eyes bugged out of her head, and she immediately covered her shock with a blank expression. Had I warned her sufficiently? No. But he was so unpredictable that there was no way to prepare her for all possibilities.

“When will you start taking my calls again, Sammy?”

I sighed heavily, sipped from my glass of water, and answered, “When can you start respecting my boundaries?”

“I knew I should have fought harder for custody; your mother raised you to be soft.” He finished the drink before him, waving down our server to ask for another. “Kids these days are weak, all this mental health bullshit.”

When the server arrived, Kelsey hesitated and ordered a glass of wine. She had been excited to have her first glass of wine, but I could see that experiencing a drunk Sam Sr. could make even the most casual drinker question their alcohol use.

“What’s the deal with the kid?” Dad slurred.

“My son?” Kelsey asked without hesitation.

“I guess so, the one in the pictures. Did you get yourself mixed up with a gold digger?” He asked, his gaze locked on me.

“Dad, insult Kelsey again, and we’re leaving.” I threatened, squeezing Kelsey’s knee under the table as reassurance.

“And insult your son once more, and we’re gone,” Kelsey said, eliciting a nod of approval from Gramps. I had always felt alone dealing with my father, and Kelsey’s support was new; it made me feel like I could face anything.

Thankfully, Dad accepted the warning from both of us, and while he continued to drink, he refrained from speaking much.

When we were younger, my mother kept as much distance as possible between us and my father, even while they were married.

His travel schedule during the season allowed for that space.

You would have thought that she would have told us all the horrible things he had done to destroy their marriage.

Instead, she painted a picture of a devoted husband, a doting father.

She had shielded us from this as long as possible, hoping he could heal whatever had broken in him and that man would return to our family.

It wasn’t until the end, when I was old enough to understand that she couldn’t hide it anymore.

When she left, it wasn’t because she didn’t love him anymore, but because she knew that he would eventually hurt me and Josie.

I gazed over at Kelsey. She smiled back at me instantly. What if someday I hurt her the way he’d hurt my mother? Could something push me to make some of the same decisions?